Page 31 of Worth the Fall

“Must be a real star employee if they didn’t even want you to stay,” I sniped.

She looked almost hurt by my words, but quickly recovered.

“Just because someone went and pissed in your Cheerios this morning doesn’t mean you get to be a dick to me.”

She started walking away without waiting for a response, her heels clicking on the wood floor, and once again, I found myself chasing the redhead down the hall. It was becoming a habit.

“Brooklyn,” I groaned. “Stop.”

“No.”

I hustled to catch up to her and reached for her arm like I had earlier, my fingertips grazing against her bare skin. The contact felt good. How long had it been since I’d even touched a woman on purpose?

“I’m sorry. I just came from Clarabel’s school, and her teacher is a nightmare.” I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to tell her something so personal.

“Clarabel is your daughter?” she asked as her green eyes studied me.

I’d almost forgotten that not everyone in town knew every single thing about me, even though it often felt that way.

“Yes.”

“What grade is she in?”

“Second,” I answered, and Brooklyn simply nodded her head.

“I’m sorry her teacher’s a nightmare. But I’m not her. Try to differentiate between us next time.”

She patted my chest before turning around and heading toward Sierra’s office, which would be hers soon enough. And I stood there like a fool, watching her ass shake from side to side the entire time until it disappeared from view.

Hate to see you go, Brooklyn, but love to watch you leave.

Iwas exhausted. Icouldn’t seem to get all the things Miss Shooster had said out of my head, and they had been replaying on some sort of sick loop ever since I’d gotten back to the resort. Even thinking dirty thoughts about Brooklyn and her sassy mouth couldn’t distract me. And trust me, I’d tried. But every time I imagined Brooklyn talking back to me, her voice turned into the teacher’s, and she said something disparaging about my daughter. Definite cock-killer.

I knew I was probably being more than a little overprotective and unreasonable, but if I didn’t keep my daughter safe, then who would? It was my job to protect her. She wasn’t old enough to watch out for things she couldn’t even see happening in the first place. Was allowing her to stay in that kind of environment the best thing for her and her development? How was I supposed to know what the right thing to do was?

I was probably being irrational. Being a parent was really fucking hard sometimes. Every day felt like a new challenge, and just when I seemed to get a handle on one type of issue, another one popped up in its place.

Poking my head into my dad’s office, I was relieved to see him still sitting behind his desk, the phone pressed to his ear. He looked up, his face smiling as he waved me in. I closed the door behind me and took a seat while I waited for him to wrap up his call.

“Good evening, son,” my dad greeted once his conversation had ended.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Everything okay? You look...” He seemed to struggle with choosing the right word, so I decided to give him some options.

“Pissed off? Tired? Angry? Worn out?”

He laughed, and the lines around his blue eyes crinkled. “I was going to say perplexed. Or deep in thought. What’s on your mind?” he asked as he leaned back in his oversize chair.

“I had a conference with Clara’s teacher today, and it left me a little unsettled.”

That had his attention. We O’Gradys were nothing if not obsessed with our little girl.

“Unsettled how? In what way?” He leaned forward, his arms now on the desk in front of him, like he might jump out of his chair at any second.

“That’s just it. I’m not sure.” I shook my head. I wasn’t prepared to put all my thoughts into words that made sense. “She said some things that made me think she might not be the best influence for Clara to be around five days a week.”

My dad looked at me and nodded, but stayed silent. I knew he was thinking over what I’d just said, even though I’d barely said anything at all.